


lovesongs for the end of the world

by dayisdawning



Category: Skulduggery Pleasant - Derek Landy
Genre: Album: Wasteland Baby! (Hozier), F/M, Post-Apocalyptic, another hozier-inspired valdug fic because we all need more of these in our lives, theyre in love and even the literal end of the world cant change that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:49:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23610343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dayisdawning/pseuds/dayisdawning
Summary: In a post-apocalyptic wasteland, Skulduggery and Valkyrie continue on.
Relationships: Valkyrie Cain/Skulduggery Pleasant
Comments: 11
Kudos: 26





	lovesongs for the end of the world

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by five different songs (mostly) from Hozier's album "Wasteland, Baby!", self-described as a series of lovesongs for the end of the world, these are five snippets of Valkyrie and Skulduggery's lives at the true end of the world.

**_i. the fear and the fire of the end of the world_ **

The world is on fire, and so is she.

Skulduggery had been out of Dublin when it happened, when he sensed the shifting in the air even across the hundreds of miles that separated him from the city. He watched as the sky instantaneously turned from a pale blue to a deep grey, his non-existent heart missing a beat as the world darkened before him.

Before, mortal wars had followed the wars of sorcerers. Caught in the conceit that came with their power no one ever imagined that, at the end of all things, it would be mortals who destroyed the world.

Through the falling ash he sees her cutting through the sky in a haze of white, because whilst the years may have passed them by, her rage, her fiery impulsivity, had not been quenched. They meet in the sky, surrounded by a field of electricity that had long since ceased to harm him, silent sobs and shaking bones as they watch ash fall over the fire marking the start of the end of the world. 

**_ii. nothing fucks with my baby_ **

Of course, as soon as the bombs were dropped, the sorcerer's war began. When things go completely, utterly, abysmally wrong, when sorcerers become too focused on their own interests to properly monitor mortal governments, resulting in full scale nuclear destruction, it’s not a question of how to somehow, miraculously save the world - it’s a question of who to blame. 

They stride up to the ruins of the sanctuary. A line of soldiers run out from inside, weapons both mortal and magic at the ready, but none could be ready for Valkyrie leaping through the air, spearing electricity straight through their brains with a flex of her hand. She picks up the gun from a fallen soldier and uses it to instantly shoot the next woman who appears from the rubble. If Skulduggery had a throat, it would be dry, if he had a heart it would be hammering, but as it was he stands very still, frozen as his partner decimates any who approach them. She is a force of nature, a woman who is one with the source magic itself.

“Valkyrie,” he murmurs. “You are miraculous.”

Her tense expression softens slightly as she turns to him, lightning still crackling up her arms.

“Doesn’t take much to make a miracle, these days,” she responds, beginning to turn back to the now empty sanctuary before Skulduggery grabs her arm and spins her around.

“No, Valkyrie,” he says, looking into her eyes. “You have always been transcendent.”

**_iii. no plan_ **

They drive through the barren countryside, the Bentley still serving them well even though it is now as battered and bruised as the both of them. It’s become their home, after the house they once shared turned to dust along with the majority of the rest of civilisation. 

Sometimes it brings a mad sense of freedom, leaning out the window, yelling into the emptiness, laughing as he pulls her back inside, knowing they could go anywhere, do anything because the world was past the point of caring. 

Other times the void is deafening, the once comfortable silence between them now an ever-present reminder of the ever-silent land that once teemed with life.

As the sun sets they sit together on the bonnet, her head on his shoulder, his gloved hand between hers. 

_ What’s the point _ , Valkyrie thinks, as sometimes it feels like they wake up every day and punch people only because it’s what they’ve always done, a continued existence built on sheer habit. There is little desire that spurs her on beyond the comfort of its familiarity; her and Skulduggery against the world.

It is, she realises, all she’s ever really known.

As he takes her chin in his hands, tilting her head up to meet his tender kiss, she thinks that maybe this familiarity is all she ever really needed.

**_iv. death trap clad happily_ **

“How far could we fly, do you think? Could we make it to, say, the moon?”

“I’d imagine you could fly as far as you want until the oxygen got too thin.”

“You don’t need air to survive, though, I mean, you don’t breathe.”

“Yes, but unfortunately I do need those pesky air particles to perform my elemental magic on, a commodity of which I would be severely lacking in the great vacuum of space.”

“Hah. I could fly, but would suffocate. You’d survive in space, but can’t fly. What a pair we make.”

...

“Maybe we should try, anyway.”

“If you asked me, I would.”

**_v. whatever here that’s left of me is yours_ **

They’re covered in dirt, her hair matted beyond the point of return, his shirt in tatters. They’ve been bruised and battered and burned but at the end of the day it’s still them; him and her, Skulduggery and Valkyrie, the skeleton detective and his combat accessory, but as she is his, he is now equally - perhaps even more so - hers.

The rain burns as it comes down, the water is undrinkable, and thundering storm clouds accompanied by waves of smoke roll ever-steadily towards them from the horizon. But the end of the world holds less sway, it seems, when you once had the power to bring it about yourself.

She covers his hand with hers, where it’s resting on the gear stick, as they drive into the darkness.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this by candlelight in the middle of the night about 9 months ago, and later planned to clean it up and publish it after the SoW release to contribute to 2020 bone hours! ...I did not anticipate that 2020 bone hours would line up with a real life seemingly apocalyptic event, but hey as a good friend said to me, if derek can get away with SoW featuring a literal world ending pandemic and people enjoying the book regardless, then I think I'll be fine.
> 
> All by Hozier, the five songs that inspired each section of this fic were:  
> i. Wasteland, Baby  
> ii. NFWMB  
> iii. No Plan  
> iv. Sunlight  
> v. As It Was


End file.
